


Monster Movie Monday

by Suspicious_Popsicle



Series: Mix Tape [17]
Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fluri, M/M, belatedly realizing that Crash should have his own tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 23:38:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2044524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suspicious_Popsicle/pseuds/Suspicious_Popsicle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: The characters in this story are (mostly) from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Monster Movie Monday

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The characters in this story are (mostly) from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.

Waking up crushed against a wall was a lousy way to start the day. It wasn't the first time this had happened, and Flynn was tempted to begin insisting that when he and Yuri slept together—actually _slept_ —they ought to use his bed rather than Yuri's mattress. It would be more comfortable, anyway. Then again, in that situation he could just as easily imagine himself being woken by a sudden fall to the floor, seeing as the reason he was always ending up pushed against the wall was that Yuri had a tendency to take up as much space as he could stretch himself across. Idly, Flynn wondered if they ought to quit spending the night together. It wasn't as if either of them had to go far to sleep in his own bed.

The thought didn't stick with him for long. He was just being grumpy, and he knew it. There were good points to waking up in bed with a lover, even one who slept as fitfully as Yuri. Moving carefully as he tried to find a more comfortable position, Flynn wound up with his head pillowed on Yuri's chest. Slowly, the soft, rhythmic beat of his heart filled his awareness and eased away his irritation. He listened, musing on his life, his circumstances, and the innumerable choices that had led him to that precise moment. He'd lost his mother's acceptance, or, rather, been shown that it had always been conditional. In exchange, he'd found a place where he could be himself _and_ be happy...and he'd found Yuri. Infuriating, inexplicable, incredible Yuri, who'd supported him the best way he knew how and nearly thrown away one of the best things that had ever happened to Flynn. Smiling wryly, he curled a little closer and turned his head to place a soft kiss on Yuri's chest.

“Time is it?” Yuri rumbled. His singing had been tipping more into growls, lately. Flynn wondered if he had imagined that sound creeping into Yuri's voice, as well.

“A little past 'too early,' but not quite 'get up.'”

As Yuri stretched, Flynn took advantage of the movement to slide halfway atop him. Yuri was drowsy, languid, and Flynn kissed the corner of his jaw, eliciting a sound caught between a grumble and a hum of encouragement. Assuming the latter, he pressed on.

“Your voice is rough.”

He let the movement of his lips tickle the skin of Yuri's neck as he made the observation. Listening to the wordless response, he felt it vibrate into his soft kisses. Definitely approval this time. There was a gravelly undertone to Yuri's voice as it caught in his throat.

“'s early.”

It wasn't just that, though. “Your songs have been...more aggressive.”

Ever since Yuri had admitted that he was considering taking his band to a more professional level, Flynn had been noticing his style changing. It had become more pronounced after Judy had announced that they'd been accepted as an opener for a band doing a cross-country tour. Dragon Swarm would only be performing in a few cities along the route, but it was a huge deal for them. This was their chance to play for real crowds away from Zaphias, and to get their name and sound out there among fans who otherwise would never have heard of them.

With a soft laugh, Yuri rolled them over and settled on top of him. “Complaining? You're usually good with aggression.”

Swiftly, he ducked his head to bite the crook of Flynn's neck, marking him. One of his hands trailed down Flynn's side, slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers to knead the flesh of hip and thigh.

“I wasn't complaining.”

He shifted, trying to find a comfortable position that gave Yuri better access. Those teasing fingers withdrew, letting the elastic snap back across his skin. Yuri slid off him, looking pleased as he propped himself up on one arm.

“Karol's been trying his hand at writing his parts. I'm just following his lead.”

Though he knew he ought to be impressed, Flynn was just a little distracted at the moment. Twining a lock of Yuri's hair around his fingers, he drew him in for a kiss. They drifted away from awareness of the world, back into dreamy warmth and quiet. Yuri seemed content to be gentle, a rarity of behavior, but even he had to enjoy the occasional slow morning. He was smiling when they finally pulled apart.

“Finish in the shower?” he suggested. “If we hurry, I'll have time to make sausage and eggs for breakfast.”

“Before what?”

“Judy and Karol are coming over today.”

He probably ought to have known. So much for peace and quiet.

* * *

 

Yuri must have been in a particularly good mood. In addition to the promised sausage and eggs, he made pancakes for breakfast. They were halfway through eating when Karol began drumming at the door.

“It's open!” Yuri shouted.

He drained the last of his heavily-sweetened cup of coffee as Karol and Judy let themselves in. He could hear the rustle of clothing from the living room, coats being taken off and probably left hanging the chair that Yuri treated like a catchall for clutter. When he came into the dining room, Karol took a seat at the table without hesitation and grabbed a sausage off the dish in the center. Judy stood back, a smile on her face as she rested a hand on her cheek.

“My, I didn't think we'd be interrupting such a nice, domestic scene.”

“You wouldn't be joking if you'd ever tried to eat something Flynn cooked. This was self-preservation. Let me finish—”

“Please, take your time.”

She stepped into the kitchen and returned with a fork. As Flynn looked on, she cut a piece out of Yuri's short stack and ate it. Yuri stared pointedly at the wedge missing from his pancakes before turning his attention to her.

“Want me to fix you a plate?”

“Oh, no. Don't trouble yourself. I only wanted a taste.” She stole another bite as Yuri rolled his eyes.

“Karol, what about you?”

“I'm good. You guys gonna finish those?” Without waiting for a response, he dragged the plate of sausages across the table. Yuri speared one with his fork before they were out of reach.

Flynn smiled crookedly at Yuri. “Will my food be safe if I go get some more coffee?”

“I'll guard it for you if you bring me a refill.”

He had to slip behind Yuri to get into the kitchen, and Flynn quashed the urge to lean down and kiss the top of his head. He made it to the coffee maker without any undue displays of affection. Ever since they'd begun dating, he'd envied more and more that casual closeness Yuri shared with his friends. Unfortunately, he just wasn't quite comfortable being so obvious about how he felt. It simply wasn't the same as the comfort born from years of friendship. His relationship with Yuri still seemed like such a sudden change. Though he felt like a different person nowadays, he could still clearly recall those first weeks when merely thinking of Yuri had been enough to infuriate him.

Surprisingly, the switch from...well, the switch _to_ lovers had been a relatively smooth change. They had a certain chemistry between them that Flynn found incredibly exciting. The few, furtive relationships he'd had in the past hadn't been anything like being with Yuri, who, for one thing, absolutely did not give a damn about keeping anything under wraps. Not that Flynn wanted to keep it a secret, it was just...he wasn't used to such open displays of affection. Although Yuri hadn't ever asked him out on a proper date, when they were out together, Yuri touched him with distracting frequency: on the shoulder, on the arm, on the back. He would grab Flynn by the hand and drag him through stores. He would fling an arm around his shoulders and muss his hair.

Then there were the parties he'd taken Flynn to. Yuri didn't mind fooling around in the darkened bedrooms of strange houses. He didn't mind borrowing empty bathrooms, either. Hallways, stairways, and the occasional hastily cleared section of counter top were all fair game when Yuri'd had a few and was in the mood to make out. The most surprising part was that, as far as Flynn could tell, _no one cared_. It made those hazy, heated moments simultaneously embarrassing and liberating.

He returned with the coffee before the rest of his breakfast could be placed in any real danger, and set Yuri's down on the table before slipping once more behind him. This time, lightly, as if just steadying himself, he passed a hand across the back of Yuri's shoulders. Because he'd known Judy would notice and didn't want to see the look on her face, he kept his attention fixed on his boyfriend. That was why he saw the slight shift closer as his fingers lifted free and broke the moment of contact. It was why he caught the flicker of Yuri's attention as it alighted wholly on himself. It was why he noticed that happy, little smile before it was hidden away in the first sip of fresh coffee.

Flynn sat back down, smiling behind his own mug. Touch of any sort was another form of communication to Yuri, and Flynn was learning to speak the language.

* * *

 

A few days later, Flynn and Yuri were home one evening and, for once, not playing host to Yuri's friends. More unusual than that, however, was the quiet. Flynn had been in his room working on an assignment when Yuri had come wandering in, apparently simply looking for some company. He'd made himself at home on the bed and kept mostly still for about half an hour.

“You doing anything Monday night?”

Flynn turned away from his desk at the question. Curled on his side on top of the sheets, arms and legs flung out in front of him, Yuri resembled Repede stretched out for a nap. He was watching Flynn attentively, though, waiting patiently for an answer.

“I haven't made any plans. Why? Did you have something in mind?”

“Want to go watch a movie with me?”

“Sure.”

He agreed without giving it much thought, then realized what had just happened. For the entire two months that they'd been going out, Yuri hadn't once asked him on a real date. He'd invited Flynn more readily into his circle, brought him to parties, taken him along to run errands, but when it came to an actual holding hands, reservation for two _date_ , it had always been Flynn who had asked. He'd been telling himself that it wasn't that big a deal but, now that Yuri had finally made the first move for once, he found that it was suddenly, surprisingly, _amazingly_ important.

It was also, as it turned out, all Flynn needed to excuse taking a break. Abandoning his assignment, he sat down on the bed in the center of the 'c' of Yuri's body. As bright, gray eyes regarded him quizzically, he reached out and lifted a lock of hair from where it lay across Yuri's neck, then let it slip out of his hand to fall across the sheets behind him.

“Done working?”

“That assignment isn't actually due for a week. I think I can afford to take a short break.”

Laughter tumbled low and rough from Yuri's throat. “'A _short_ break?' Let's see how long we can make this 'short break' last.” He caught Flynn up in his arms, dragging him down into a warm embrace and an eager kiss.

Yuri really was a bad influence. Amusement colored the thought before being burned off and replaced by something much more intense. He was definitely not going to be getting any more work done that evening.

* * *

 

The next morning, after Yuri had left for class, Flynn opened up his laptop and pulled up Music Box, a sort of online radio station he'd been using to sample different metal bands. Setting it on shuffle, he got back to work on his assignment. Music Box wasn't a resource he used for much purpose aside from building a better understanding of some of what he'd learned from Yuri. The mix of suggested genres he'd put together threw out a surprisingly varied assortment of sounds. He found that he rather enjoyed cello metal, and he'd been unexpectedly impressed by some of the symphonic bands. There was a folk group or two that made good use of melody. Some of the songs agreed with him so well that he barely heard them as he worked on his assignment. Other bands ripped his concentration away. He'd already banned extreme metal from the playlist exclusively on the basis of one band that had either been aggressively experimental or just plain awful. He still couldn't decide which.

A new song started up, and the use of easily intelligible lyrics eventually got his attention. Such a thing wasn't as rare as he'd expected, but between the growling vocalists, the foreign languages, and the sheer volume of the instruments in many bands, hearing clear, understandable lyrics was an occurrence of note.

Once the song had his attention, it refused to let go. It wasn't that the lyrics were anything particularly inspiring. They were actually a little cheesy: lines about flying off together and something about a chamber of the heart. It all felt silly in a very over-the-top sort of way, with those pounding drums and wailing guitar solos, and he couldn't help but wonder if Yuri actually liked this sort of thing. It didn't really seem his style, and he had always insisted that there were important differences between the genres. Surely he wasn't a fan of anything and everything metal.

He tried to go back to his homework, but something about the song had latched onto his focus and was pulling it back. There had been plenty of conversations with Yuri about their favorite types of music, and Flynn thought back over those, trying to remember what Yuri had told him he liked best. Speed metal—that was what Dragon Swarm was based off of—and Nintendocore—easy enough to remember but not, he thought, an actual favorite of Yuri's—but the band that was playing didn't sound like either of those. He pulled up their description—power metal—and tried to remember if Yuri had ever said anything about it.

Assignment forgotten, he left Music Box to go look for the full album. The first track felt more like a song to accompany a group setting out on a grand adventure...if that grand adventure led them through a dated music video. Yuri was the adventurous sort, though, and that song Music Box had pulled up—while not exactly romantic—might not be bad accompaniment for the ride to the theater for their date on Monday. Maybe afterward, they could even drive around for a little while, find some secluded spot to park, turn the music down low, and....

He hopped off that train of thought before his imagination could carry him away. The room felt suddenly too warm, and he plucked at the collar of his shirt. Staring at the image of the album art on his screen, he wondered if he would be able to find a copy in stock in Don Whitehorse's store. It couldn't hurt to check.

* * *

 

On Monday, Yuri didn't act like there was anything special about their upcoming date. He didn't bother to change out of his old, black t-shirt, or to let his hair down out of the messy pile he'd tied it into. Not that Flynn had any objections to that last part. He'd developed a certain appreciation for trailing kisses down the exposed back of his neck, and he enjoyed being able to pull Yuri's hair free. There was something intimate about it, even though he knew that, for Yuri, tying his hair up was only a method to keep it marginally out of his way while he worked, and he didn't much care about it coming loose.

Flynn leaned against the doorframe, watching as Yuri put away his guitar and searched the floor for a second sock. Thin tendrils of hair had escaped, little wisps that had gotten stuck to the film of sweat that had formed on his neck because he insisted on keeping the house just a few degrees too warm in the winter. Flynn wondered if they had time for a few minutes' distraction before they needed to leave for the movie.

Straightening up from his search, Yuri caught him watching and grinned. He balanced on one foot at a time to yank his socks on, before grabbing his wallet and shoving it down into his pocket. He wore his favorite cuff already, and but paused to pull a necklace on over his head, a sword pendant that he wore almost every time he left the house. On his way out of his room, he slipped past, bumping their hips together playfully. Flynn turned to follow as if on a leash. The way Yuri had looked at him as he'd passed, Flynn probably would have followed him most anywhere. He could tell it was going to be a good night.

In the living room, Yuri paused to pull on the boots he'd left lying next to the front door and then the heavy black hoodie that had been left flung across a chair. Flynn was ready to go when he whistled for Repede.

“You're taking him on a walk before we go?”

“Nope.” He knelt down to ruffle the dog's fur. “Repede gets to come with us tonight.”

“To the movies?” He felt his hopes for their date slipping away.

“To _a_ movie. They're getting it set up at Estelle's house. Come on,” he said, rising to his feet with a smile that might have been just a shade too mischievous. “Let's get going.”

He followed Yuri out into the cold, and locked up. Maybe it would still be all right. Maybe it was supposed to be a double date, just himself and Yuri, Estelle and Rita staying in where it was warm, curling up on the couch and watching a movie. Yuri might still be interested in a little something more afterward. They could take Repede to the park, have a nice walk under the moon, alone with the sound of the wind and the warmth of Yuri's hand in his.

Sliding in behind the wheel, he started the car as Yuri sat down next to him. As he began backing out of the driveway, his hands clenched in a moment of panic as the music started up. He'd forgotten that he'd slid that new CD in right after he'd gotten home earlier. Watching from the corner of his eye, he saw Yuri absently nodding his head to the beat, and noticed the moment he realized what he was listening to. He looked from the CD player to Flynn with obvious surprise before settling back into his seat with a smile.

“Didn't figure you for a fan of this stuff.”

“They're...interesting,” Flynn hedged. He tried to remember which track that cheesy song was on.

“They're not bad. Not usually my taste, but every now and again, you just want music to go fight dragons to, you know?” He played air guitar as he watched the world outside speed past. “They were one of the bands that played The Atherum last year.”

“The Atherum? Is that a concert hall?”

Yuri gave a short laugh. “Something like that. It's a cruise ship. Every year, they sort of host a floating metal fest: tons of bands and metalheads all shipped out to sea with enough booze to fill a couple dozen swimming pools.”

An entire cruise dedicated to metal? Not exactly a relaxing vacation. “Have you been?”

“Nah. Out of my budget. I'd like to though, one of these years.”

How much did it cost to go? Flynn mentally reviewed his income and his bills. How much could he save up in a year? If he and Yuri lasted that long, would that be something they could do together? Would it even be something he'd _want_ to do with Yuri? It might be interesting. It might also be an unending headache. He filed the idea away for later. It wasn't anything he needed to consider immediately.

He didn't notice that the first song had ended until a familiar set of lyrics started up. Flynn gritted his teeth as metal's answer to romantic music flooded the car. Buying that CD had been such a stupid idea. Yuri was going to notice. He was going to know exactly what Flynn had been thinking. He was going to laugh so hard—

Yuri reached out and skipped to the next track. He offered no explanation, just settled back in his seat and began once more to energetically play air guitar along with the music.

Flynn sighed. It really had been a ridiculous idea.

* * *

 

Estelle lived with her parents in a two-story house at the end of a cul-de-sac in one of Zaphias's more affluent neighborhoods. There were other cars parked on the curb as Flynn pulled up, and his spirits sank as he caught sight of Crash's Trans Am. There was no longer any question of whether Yuri had meant to ask him out on any sort of date at all. This was just another party with his friends.

The garage doors were open, spilling pale yellow light down the sloping driveway and out into the blue of the waning afternoon. He could see chairs set up inside. People were milling around outside, and Yuri waved as they walked up to join the scattered groups. A figure leaning against the white siding waved back, the lit cigarette between his fingers zipping through the air like a bright orange firefly.

Flynn hesitated, but ultimately chose to go on into the garage and leave Yuri to chat with Crash. The unwelcome odor of cigarette smoke followed him, a reminder of how often Yuri came home with that smell lingering in his hair and clothes. Crash wasn't the only friend of Yuri's that smoked, but he was the only one Flynn knew of that had slept with him. He'd done his best over the past months to ignore the smell of cigarettes and refused to allow himself to ask Yuri where he'd been. He told himself that it was none of his business, and that there had to be trust between them. He _did_ trust Yuri. That didn't mean he had to like the company he kept, though.

As soon as she spotted him, Estelle came over to say hello. Her parents' garage had been transformed into a makeshift movie theater with rows of mismatched chairs set up facing the blank far wall. A folding table held a laptop and a projector, and a workbench to one side had been laid out with boxes of pizza, bowls of popcorn, and a cooler full of sodas and bottled water. There were a couple of heaters set up opposite the garage door, though their benefit remained limited. It certainly wasn't what he'd been expecting when Yuri had asked if he'd wanted to come watch a movie.

“Flynn, I'm glad you made it! How are you?”

“Fine.” He looked around at the set up and the small crowd. “What is all this?”

The question seemed to surprise her. “Crash is showing his movie. He's been working on it for months. Didn't...Yuri tell you?”

“It must have slipped his mind,” he muttered.

“Oh. Um, there are actually several of us here that worked on the movie with him. I was really impressed by how much Yuri got into his character.”

“Who was he playing?” He didn't bother to try to sound interested. As far as he was concerned, he should have heard this straight from Yuri ages ago.

It seemed he wasn't going to hear it from Estelle either, though. As soon as she opened her mouth to respond, someone clapped a hand down on his shoulder. Enveloped in the smell of cigarettes, Crash invited himself into the conversation.

“Hey, no spoilers. Maybe he wanted it to be a surprise.”

Estelle didn't look convinced, but she didn't argue.

With one more quick pat to Flynn's shoulder, Crash dropped his hand to his side. “Good to see you, man. Glad you could make it out.”

There was only sincerity in his grin, which was just as confusing as usual. Crash was always friendly like that. He seemed to operate on a different set of rules from most people.

“Yuri didn't tell me he was helping you film a movie.” He tried to keep the accusation out of his voice, he really did. And he was mostly successful.

“Yeah, I got that part.” He sighed noisily. “Some people just don't understand that art doesn't happen in a vacuum.” A crooked smile crept across his face to show he was at least half joking. He rocked forward and back, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet. Seeing him so unusually keyed up, Flynn realized that tonight was his version of a concert. All of the effort he'd put into his movie was now going to be on display for an audience. It was the second time that Flynn had felt that they had something in common. The thought should have helped him to relax, but....

“Bet he didn't show you any of my other creative endeavors, huh?”

“No, he—”

Snatching an orange soda out of the cooler, Crash grabbed Flynn's arm to steer him toward the table with the laptop and projector.

“Come on. You'll like this.”

Searching for an escape, Flynn found that Estelle had been distracted by a conversation with Rita. Yuri was still outside, absorbed in shooting hoops with some of his friends. Resigning himself to spending a few minutes in Crash's company, Flynn knew things would be a lot easier if he just liked the guy. He even _wanted_ to like Crash. He just...didn't.

Setting his soda aside on the table, Crash leaned over the computer and pulled up a website—Dragon Swarm's website. Flynn's gaze darted over the still photos of the group performing in the park amphitheater, in Keiv Rock, in what looked like someone's basement, in the living room of the house he shared with Yuri. Crash brought them to a page of embedded videos.

“He didn't tell me he had a website.”

“Not surprising. Never met anybody as bad at self-promotion as him.” He scrolled down and picked a video. “Watch.”

The video that started featured one of Yuri's songs. Flynn was familiar enough that he could have recognized it even if it hadn't been on Dragon Swarm's site. It was one of his older ones, the type he'd been writing back when Flynn had first met him, back before he'd started using growls as more than occasional emphasis. Yuri's voice whispered through the chords, barely keeping afloat over the drumming. The video showed him, Judy, and Karol in a dimly lit room, playing with no audience. The camerawork was shaky as it circled them, the colors faded. Something had been done to make the recording look scratchy, although the audio was clear and only roughened by its own intended feedback.

The image onscreen jumped and flickered, and then it changed. There was a forest of pines, black and indistinct against a charcoal background. Something tall and thin and faceless walked among the trees in jerky stop motion. It was brilliantly white against the darkness, practically glowing. For a few seconds, Flynn watched it stagger through the trees before the image cut back to Dragon Swarm.

“'Wanderer in the Wild Wood,'” Crash said as the music played tinny from the speakers. “Though, personally, I'd've called it 'Searcher.'”

Flynn recognized the title and felt that perhaps he should already have known it. He still couldn't quite keep track of each individual song. Although he'd gotten a handle on Yuri's style, he hadn't fully immersed himself in the details.

The song played on, visuals flickering back every now and again to the stark, vaguely disturbing stop motion giant. Crash bobbed along to the beat, looking a bit like his ungainly creation. He was barefoot and smiling faintly, sipping at his soda and perfectly at ease. He seemed like the type that didn't have an antagonistic bone in his body. Flynn wondered how he'd gotten mixed up with Yuri.

When the video ended, Crash fixed him with a proud grin. “So...?”

He wanted an opinion? “It...wasn't what I'd expected.”

“Come on, man. You gotta give me more than that. What'd you think of my Searcher?”

“A little unsettling.” That was what he'd been going for, right?

“That it? You didn't notice...?” Smile fading, he set his soda aside again and skipped back to the middle of the video. “Look. Here, where Judy's going at it.”

She was bent almost half over her bass as she played and, when the image flickered back to the woods, the Searcher faltered and nearly fell.

“Or with Karol here.”

Hands a blur of movement, Karol produced a rising clatter of drums that built until he suddenly threw his arms up over his head, dropping the sound level off sharply as the bass fell away and all that was left for a few, quiet beats was Yuri's voice, sinking into a growl. A moment passed, two, time filled only by a few lonely notes plucked from Old Scratch.

“Watch,” Crash said. “It's the only time he does this in the whole video.”

Yuri looked straight at the camera. For a fraction of a second, everything was still. Then, he threw back his head and roared. The Searcher flickered back into existence, arms in the air like Karol's had been. As the drums and bass came back to life, thundering in towards the final climax, it looked directly at the camera. The Searcher came lumbering through the trees, faster and faster, as the image blinked madly between it and shots of the band. With the last great clamor of music, the Searcher gained the camera, turning the world white. As the song died away, shadows pooled, resolving into the swaying forms of Dragon Swarm. The image kept on darkening, falling into complete blackness as the final note faded out.

Crash looked expectantly to Flynn. “Well? Did you see it that time?”

“The way you had it mirror their movements?”

He nodded excitedly. “Right, right. Yeah! Exactly! They're looking for something! Well, Yuri is, anyway. He's been looking for something since before he got into all this.”

There it was. There was that awful feeling again, that feeling that there was something between Yuri and Crash that he would never be able to compete with. In some ways, Crash was much closer to Yuri than Flynn was—maybe closer than he could ever be—and after the way Yuri had just switched Crash out...was it really so much of a stretch to think he might change his mind and switch back just as easily?

Crash nudged his arm. “Dude, why so serious? You in awe of my directorial genius? You haven't even seen the movie yet!” His 'just kidding' grin smoothed out a bit as he looked back at the screen. “Seriously, though, I'm pretty proud of this one. Stop motion's a bitch. With my Searcher, he's got a pipe cleaner skeleton, and I wrapped him real tight with string to sort of bulk him up a bit—it's why he's all a little frayed around the edges, you know? So I—”

Tuning him out, Flynn explored the site. There were two other music videos, and all three in total were credited to 'Lohan,' which he assumed must be Crash, though he was fairly sure Yuri had said his real name was something else. In addition to the music videos, there was footage of some of the band's gigs, which could have been shot by either Crash or Karol's father. There were even a few audio tracks available to give fans a listen with better sound quality than the live footage provided. Skimming the titles, he recognized one of them as being from Dragon Swarm's changing style, one of the ones Karol had written part of. He scrolled back up and clicked on the band's bio page.

The photo that came up at the top of the page made him smile despite himself. There, introducing Yuri to the metal scene the world over, was the only photo of him that Flynn had—that shot taken of him at a party, drunk and confused as a tiny green lizard clung to his hair.

“Hey, is that the site?”

Yuri was suddenly pressed in close to have a look, one arm slung heavily around Flynn's shoulders. It was a comforting gesture, and he reached up and curled his fingers into Yuri's, pressing his knuckles into his palm. Half afraid that he might have been rejected—for all his comfort with physical contact, Yuri wasn't much for holding hands—Flynn relaxed a little when he felt a brief return squeeze of his fingers.

“What are you looking at the bios for? Did Crash show you the music videos?”

“He saw 'Watcher' just now. I was telling him how I made it.”

“Pull up 'Path of the Victorious.' That one came out pretty cool.” He turned his head to look directly at Flynn. Their foreheads were practically touching, and Flynn could feel the heat rolling off him after his game outside. “Otter loaned me and Judy swords for that one. You don't know bad ass until you see Judy handle a sword.”

“Only you and Judy? What about Karol?”

Yuri's grin actually got bigger. “War hammer.”

“Ooh, are we watching videos?”

Warmth pressing in close on Flynn's other side was Judy, joining them around the laptop. Glancing over at her, he did a double take and stumbled back. A large iguana blinked lazily at him from its perch on Judy's shoulder. Past its big, brown eyes and fringed crest, Judy looked like she was trying not to laugh.

“Flynn, I don't believe you've met Ba'ul.”

Raising a hand, she ran a single finger underneath one of Ba'ul's front legs, lifting a paw in an offer to shake. Not sure if she was serious, Flynn was saved from finding out by Karol's timely arrival.

“Jeeze, Yuri. Get a room.”

The taunt made Flynn realize that he'd backed right into Yuri's arms. He felt a breath over his ear a moment before Yuri spoke, voice husky and amused. “Should we take his advice?” Hands crept down over Flynn's stomach, coming to rest at the waist of his jeans.

Blushing, he muttered an apology and said his quick hellos to Judy and Karol. Yuri ruffled his drummer's hair, perhaps a little more roughly than usual after having been teased, but no one seemed to think much of that embarrassing little episode. And he hadn't been afraid of the iguana, anyway. Just startled. Still, he was relieved as Estelle began ushering people inside for the evening's main attraction. Karol dragged Yuri and Judy off to get the best seats and Flynn followed along with them. Crash was left to get the laptop and projector set up along with, hopefully, a better set of speakers.

Karol took pride of place between his band mates on the front row, and Flynn grabbed the seat on Yuri's other side. Repede came in along with everyone else and made himself comfortable at their feet. Flynn gave him a scratch behind his ears as more people settled in and the temperature and volume of chatter in the garage increased. As they sat waiting for the movie to begin, Flynn's curiosity finally got the better of him. He'd kept quiet for months while Yuri had been meeting up with Crash. Now that he'd been brought to see the results of Yuri's sneaking around, it ought to be fine to ask. Yuri couldn't very well keep hiding it any more.

“So, how long have you been helping with the movie?”

Yuri didn't look away from where he was letting Ba'ul climb onto his arm. “A while now. We ended up filming a lot of my scenes last, though.”

“You never said anything.”

“So?”

“It just seems like that might have been something to talk about.”

“Since when do you have an interest in film?”

“Since when do _you_?”

The volume of his response surprised him enough to remember where they were and that he really did not want to start a public argument. He subsided, watching the tension stored in Yuri's free arm, in the fist clenched on his thigh, slowly dissipate. He just wanted Yuri to acknowledge that he should have said something in the first place, rather than sneaking around. Flynn had demonstrated his trust by not asking any questions, even though he knew where Yuri had been going. Despite that, given all his chances to speak up, Yuri had never said one word about it. How was Flynn really expected to trust him when he didn't get openness and honesty in return?

Luckily, Crash had just about gotten everything set up. His icon-cluttered desktop appeared, projected directly onto the blank wall. The image shook and shuddered as he tried to get the angle just right and adjust the focus. Talking died down, replaced by shadow puppets, mock-animal noises, and bursts of laughter until, finally done with his adjustments, Crash opened up a file that brought up a video player ready to go. The last whispers quieted as he spoke up from the back of the room.

“All right. Looks like it's about time for the show to start, yeah? Welcome to Monster Movie Monday, here on our very own Satellite of Love!” There was a scattering of applause and cheers accompanied by a few out-of-context one-liners before he continued. “Tonight's feature was directed by yours truly, please save all accolades for after the show. Any criticism will be received by our leading man, Yuri, that's him getting into character up front. All right!” He clapped. “Grab some popcorn, silence your cell phones, and enjoy the show!”

Estelle had taken up position near the light switch and, at Crash's call of “Lights!” she flicked it off.

“Camera!” There was a pause, then Crash explained, somewhat less enthusiastically, “The door.”

“Oh!” Estelle flipped the switch that sent the garage door rumbling down, cutting off the glow of the streetlights and leaving the projected image of the computer screen as the only illumination. She hurried to her seat for the final call.

“Action!”

The desktop was replaced with darkness as the video player expanded to fill the screen. Two sharp, loud drum beats shot through the silence, and the beginning credits shone stark white against the black in the quiet moment that followed.

_Produced by Lohan._

Scattered cheers rose from the small audience, punctuated by two more loud drum beats. Yuri lifted Ba'ul off his shoulder where he'd been climbing towards Flynn, and set him down next to Repede.

_Written and Directed by Lohan._

The drums sounded again, followed by a reverberating note struck from a bass guitar that hung momentarily in the air.

_Music by Dragon Swarm._

Yuri and Karol cheered and high-fived as the drums started up in earnest, carrying above them a roar and a frothing succession of notes from the bass. The title card came up, a cheap effect on a gray background. _Invasion of the Extra-Dimensional Lizard Men!_ Flynn closed his eyes and drew a slow, deep breath. He didn't think he could have prepared himself for this even if Yuri had warned him.

The song evened out, the intensity falling back to showcase the lyrics. Just as the words became intelligible, however, the volume dropped as the movie, filmed in black and white, opened up with a shot of a car radio, then panned out. Dragon Swarm still played in the background, but quietly. Flynn would have preferred his boyfriend's band to the dialogue any day.

Whether it was a credit to Crash or not, it was difficult to tell if the movie was bad because it was supposed to be terrible, or simply because writing screenplays was not one of his strong suits. The plot was simple enough to follow, if absurd, and Flynn tried to focus on the movie while, around him, people laughed and shouted sarcastic comments and, occasionally, threw popcorn at the screen.

It was standard, B-grade monster movie fare as far as Flynn could tell. Clumsy exposition revealed that Judy was playing a scientist who had been working on some sort of instantaneous transport device. The words space and time were tossed around repeatedly to hammer in a point, which Flynn assumed had to do with the promised invasion of lizard men. Estelle and Rita were playing friends of Judy's: fellow scientists, though in different fields. They were taking a day trip to the beach—which was more an excuse than an explanation for the bikinis they wore under open button downs—and Estelle's character wanted to know if it was all right that the transport project had been left in the hands of the strange and mysterious scientist who had joined the team shortly after the first malfunction.

“In case you're wondering,” Yuri leaned over to whisper to Flynn, “the answer is: No. They should not have left the handsome stranger in charge.” He grinned, and Flynn shook his head, thinking he shouldn't be surprised that the part Yuri had been so into was apparently going to be the villain.

The girls' trip to the beach was interrupted by a phone call from the only lab assistant that hadn't fallen victim to a mind control gun. Judy was lured back to the lab where Yuri, looking ridiculously smug in an ill-fitting lab coat, boasted of his plan to use Judy's invention to bring his cold-blooded people out of their sunless world to take over Earth. Flynn gathered that he was the king of the lizard people. Ba'ul had been given a cameo appearance on his shoulders to boost the lizard angle.

When the evil lizard king tried to capture the beautiful scientist, the audience booed and shouted insults. Popcorn rained down from the back rows, and Yuri turned around, kneeling on his seat to throw some back their way. The fight was as short-lived as the one onscreen, and Yuri didn't win either one. He settled back down, bits of popcorn caught in his hair, as his character was slammed to the floor in the movie. Grinning, he looked over at Flynn.

“You should try taking on Judy, sometime.”

“I'll pass.”

He didn't think it was possible to be as comfortable fighting anyone aside from Yuri, or to get the same satisfaction out of it. Slouching a little in his chair, he reached up and picked a bit of popcorn out of Yuri's hair. Then, because this was supposed to have been a movie date, he stretched his arm out around Yuri's shoulders. He felt Yuri stiffen up, and waited to meet his eyes. The faintest huff of laughter reached his ears in that brief moment they held eye contact, and then Yuri turned his face away, looking back up to the screen.

Flynn wasn't sure what he'd expected, though he thought to himself through his anger that he shouldn't have been surprised that Yuri had scoffed at him. He was just about to pull his arm back when Yuri slumped until he was just able to rest his head on Flynn's shoulder.

“Pulling popcorn out of my hair is a pretty lame excuse to get your hands on me,” he murmured, wriggling his shoulders against Flynn's arm. “Extra-dimensional lizard men do it for you?”

About to reply that he hadn't seen anything even vaguely resembling a lizard-human hybrid in the film so far, Flynn was cut off by Crash calling out over the exposition.

“Get a room!”

Bits of popcorn bounced softly off him and fell away. Glancing down, he saw that Yuri was looking up at him through his lashes, saw the smirk that was spreading across his face and had a feeling that he was going to regret what was coming.

“I don't think we really deserved that, do you?” He shifted, twisting and raising himself up from his slouch. “There are much more interesting ways to earn comments like that.”

He slid a leg over Flynn's to straddle his lap. Arms around Flynn's shoulders, he leaned in, flicking tongue and teasing piercing over his lips. He was making a show of it as he eased back just a little, getting back at Crash for calling them out, and Flynn knew that he ought to stop it, ought to push him away, but those rainy gray eyes hadn't once glanced away from him, and Yuri had a way of watching him as if Flynn was the only thing he wanted in the whole world.

When Yuri kissed him, Flynn welcomed it. He let Yuri in, let the feel of the piercing slide across his tongue. Hearing Yuri moan, he had to force back a smile. The kiss hadn't warranted that, and Flynn decided that the little display had probably gotten the point across well enough. He was just leaning back when an entire bowl of popcorn was upended over their heads.

There was a round of applause as Yuri tossed the bowl aside and reclaimed his seat with all the dignity of a cat who has nodded off and and fallen from its perch. He made himself comfortable leaning against Flynn, and picked pieces of popcorn off his hoodie to snack on as he turned his attention back to the movie where the girls' characters were running around a lab, still in their bikinis.

The rest of the movie ran without major interruption, though the heckling continued unabated. Flynn even heard Crash laughing at some of the jokes. He'd been certain earlier that Crash took his projects seriously, but he didn't seem to mind hearing people making fun of the movie. It was strange, Flynn thought, but, as the laughter rang out around the room, and people cheered on Judy's character as she once more fought against the lizard king, he started to wonder if maybe he was missing the point. Maybe this was the intended result of Crash's attention to detail. He glanced back to see him sitting with his feet propped up on an empty chair in front of him and smiling lazily. Crash was the class clown type, wasn't he? The type to always want to be having a good time. Maybe all the over-acting and cheap effects and crummy dialogue were exactly what he'd wanted—all just parts of a film that people could sit down together and watch and have a good time laughing at.

He turned back to the screen where Ba'ul was moving slowly in front of a photo of a city. If he squinted, it almost looked like the lizard had grown to giant proportions, and he laughed softly. It really was a ridiculous movie.

The girls saved the day with some sort of freeze ray they had built to stop the oncoming cold-blooded hordes, first using it to...shrink Ba'ul back down to size. Somehow. Flynn had long ago given up trying to find sense in the action. Yuri's character was the last to go. Judy punched his lights out, picked him up, and threw him back through the portal. The girls destroyed the machine and cheered. And hugged. And kissed. Flynn snuck a glance at Rita and Estelle, wondering what they'd thought of kissing someone else for the sake of Crash's movie. It was an odd thing to ask of a couple, particularly since they were friends, and his opinion of Crash dipped a little once again.

The wailing of Old Scratch started off the end credit theme, but Flynn wasn't listening. A few seats down, Rita was hiding her face as Estelle hugged her around her shoulders. She was smiling as she reassured her girlfriend, and Flynn hoped that it was only embarrassment that was turning the few visible inches of Rita's face red, rather than anything like regret or anger. Those sorts of feelings could be poison, as he knew all too well.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted as Yuri twisted and leaned back until he was practically laying over Flynn's lap. Grinning up at him, he asked: “So, what did you think?”

He didn't even hesitate. “Stick with the band.”

Laughing, Yuri straightened up and got to his feet. Unlike Crash, he didn't seem to be expecting much of a response from Flynn, and wandered off without asking further.

The party continued on even after the movie as guests spread out and regrouped, congregating around the snacks or leaving the warmth behind to play basketball in the dark of early evening. Flynn checked on Rita, but apparently her discomfort had been related more to the public aspect of that display of scripted affection. She was chatting quite comfortably with Estelle and Judy, and only stammered a little bit when he offered his congratulations on the movie.

At some point, Yuri had disappeared and Flynn was left listening to people congratulate Crash and make suggestions for his next film. From the sound of it, he'd already begun working on a sequel, and, try as he might to resign himself to the thought that Yuri would continue to go off without a word to spend time with his ex-fuck buddy, Flynn's mood plummeted. He wondered what he might have that Crash didn't. There had to be something. The volatile chemistry between Yuri and himself couldn't be enough to sustain a relationship.

Thankfully, Estelle noticed that there was something on his mind. Slipping away from Rita and Judy, she walked him into the house. The kitchen they stepped into was all done in stainless steel, frosted glass, and black marble. The only lights on inside were directly above, harsh fluorescent bulbs that left the doorways leading off into the rest of the house deep in shadow. The thin light encapsulated the kitchen, made it feel small and coldly sterile, more like a doctor's office than a place to prepare meals for family and friends. Even Estelle's presence wasn't quite enough to make it feel entirely welcoming, and Flynn shifted uncomfortably, not quite leaning against the counter. It was a far cry from the warm wood and the scuffed counter tops of the kitchen in the little house he shared with Yuri.

A short, startled laugh escaped him as he realized that, even with the problems they had, he would rather be with Yuri in their outdated kitchen than talking with Estelle, one of his oldest friends, in her parents' house. He ran a hand through his hair noting that, although she watched him quizzically, she was waiting for him to speak.

“I'm not sure what's wrong with me,” he started. “I trust Yuri. It's just.... He's been spending a lot of time with Crash and he never said a word about it. I only found out about the movie when I got here. I guess...I don't understand why he couldn't just tell me.”

As he spoke, his hands had been wandering from counter to pockets to belt loops in search of a perch. Finally, he crossed his arms over his chest, tucking his hands in to still them.

“Maybe he didn't want to upset you,” Estelle offered.

“So he sneaks around?” The question came out sharper than he'd intended. He trusted Yuri but...Yuri didn't always make that easy.

“You're still wary about Crash, though. Maybe he just didn't want to fight about it.”

“He doesn't mind fighting about anything else.” He paused, then said quietly: “I would have listened.”

“If that's the case, shouldn't you be talking to him rather than me?”

Flynn couldn't help but smile back as she grinned at him over her own cleverness. Estelle had been incredible over the last few months. Shortly after he and Yuri had begun dating, Flynn had sought her out and told her everything, from his mother's furious disgust as she'd kicked him out all the way up to the camping trip when Yuri had so unexpectedly changed his mind. She'd been a sympathetic ear and a source of advice—not only about his trouble with his mother, but about his situation with Yuri. There were times he'd been ready to swear that their relationship had only survived so far because he'd had Estelle to talk to. Rushing into things the way they had, they might not have lasted a week without her. She'd helped Flynn navigate the issues that had lain before him like rapids, though she couldn't do much when it came to solving those issues. Not that Flynn could say he did much better.

“Flynn...?”

Looking up, he saw concern on her face and realized that his smile had faded. “Sorry. It shouldn't bother me. There's no reason I ought to let it bother me. I trust Yuri.”

“You said that before.”

Thinking quickly back over their conversation, he realized that she was right. It was odd, now that he'd noticed it. It should go without saying that he trusted Yuri, but he kept returning to that point as if he had to prove it. He honestly didn't believe Yuri would cheat on him. So then if trust wasn't an issue, why was he making it one? Hesitantly, he tested out a thought.

“If you were in my shoes, would you make friends with Crash?”

“I'd like to think so, but I can't tell you what to do. Is it that you don't trust him?”

“No. Not exactly. Yuri said that they were just friends now, and I believe him. Crash is just....” Weird was a good word. Despite being a clown and a movie buff, he wasn't the type to stir up drama. “I don't understand him.”

A sudden thought made him laugh humorlessly, and he glanced at Estelle to see if she'd realized it.

“I'm acting like a spoiled brat who doesn't want to share his toys, aren't I? There's no reason I ought to be complaining.”

Estelle stepped forward to lay a hand on his forearm. “I think you ought to talk to Yuri about this.”

“Probably. If I can catch him in the right mood.”

They shared a smile over Yuri's capriciousness in regards to personal conversations. In the quiet between them, with his own concerns only slightly eased, Flynn could hear the muffled sounds of the party that continued outside. Drawing a deep breath, he felt Estelle squeeze his arm. Encouraged by her support and feeling better for their brief talk, he followed her back out and went to look for Yuri.

Stepping outside, he took a deep breath of the icy night air. Yuri was playing basketball again. His hair was falling out of its knot, swaying as he moved, an untidy mass that trailed tendrils down to cling to his neck. He tossed a quick grin Flynn's way as he dashed by, but his attention was mostly on the game. Watching him, Flynn could tell he wasn't really putting his all into it. He didn't, with a lot of things. It was something he'd been noticing more and more. Music was different, of course. Yuri reveled in music, but he also took it seriously. Everything else he did sometimes just seemed to be going through the motions. They hadn't even had a real fight recently.

The thought brought him right back to the dissatisfaction he'd been trying so hard to escape. It made him wonder: Was Yuri taking their relationship seriously? Was he really trying? Did he want to continue waking up next to Flynn, even if he got kicked for taking up too much of the bed, or was he just looking for someone to keep him from being alone?

A presence settled at his side, and Flynn glanced down to see that Repede had joined him. He scratched between the dog's ears as they watched Yuri pivot away from someone trying to steal the ball.

“I suppose it doesn't matter to you who he's with.”

He hadn't expected a response, of course, but the noise Repede made, something caught between a whine and a growl, made him feel a little better. It was too easy to hear an admonishment in the sound. 'Stop feeling sorry for yourself,' he seemed to say. Flynn scratched a little harder. Yuri was with him for a reason. Even Repede had come out to sit with him rather than stay inside with Crash. Maybe he wasn't a metalhead, but neither was Estelle. Maybe he hadn't known Yuri as long as Crash, but he could connect to him though music. There was something between them, and he knew that Yuri had felt it too. They just...had to grow into it.

And growth meant change which meant risk and maybe pain. But...if they were strong enough...if what they had was worth it...they'd get through it. They had to trust each other enough to talk, at least. Pretending that nothing was wrong wasn't going to get them anywhere.

* * *

 

As the party wound down, the small crowd melted away in twos and threes, and the cars that had lined the curb disappeared into the night. Flynn volunteered to stay long enough to help Estelle clean up. He swept while Yuri and Crash picked up discarded napkins and cups and took turns holding open a garbage bag for the other to toss in the pieces of trash. Judy had left earlier with Karol, and Crash soon packed up his computer and projector and headed home. Rita was staying the night, meaning Flynn, Yuri, and Repede were the last to leave. The neighborhood was still as they piled into the car and pulled out of the cul-de-sac.

Power metal pooled around them, spilling into the spaces silence left unfilled. Too quiet to prevent conversation, it was just barely loud enough to make talking unnecessary. His plans for creating a romantic mood seemed distant and embarrassingly naïve. Yuri wasn't the type to care about that sort of thing.

Pulling out of the subdivision, Flynn felt restlessness take hold of him. He didn't want to go home just yet. He was still trying to get his thoughts in order, still trying to work through whether he was just being paranoid or if his concerns were valid and if Yuri would even listen if they were. Going home would signal the end of the evening, and it had been the events of that evening that had finally convinced him that he couldn't simply continue on the way things were just because he was afraid of starting an argument. He was finally working up towards beginning a conversation that they needed to have, but he needed just a little more time before he was ready. It felt like things would never be settled between them if they went straight home and let the evening end.

“Let's go to the park.”

Yuri stopped his air guitar solo and glanced over at him. “I didn't bring Repede's leash.”

“I won't tell if you won't.”

He grinned, and mockery was mixed with approval in his voice. “Feeling daring tonight?”

In a way, perhaps. They would see how daring he was if and when he actually spoke up. He kept repeating to himself that it wasn't as big a deal as he was making it out to be, that the only reason he was afraid of what might result was because he was over-thinking and expecting Yuri to overreact. He told himself that it shouldn't be all that difficult, that if their relationship was worth keeping then it would be strong enough to outlast a real argument. They'd weathered plenty of petty squabbles over chores and rehearsal schedules as well as all the fights they'd gotten into early on. This felt different, though. The stakes were higher. He was more emotionally invested.

He didn't believe that Yuri would cheat on him. He honestly didn't. But they'd been dancing around the topic of Crash and his place in Yuri's life ever since that aborted conversation in the little meat-and-three diner where they'd had their first date, and avoiding the issue had left him feeling like an over-tightened string. Some days, he felt like he might snap under Yuri's casual abrasiveness and, if that happened, it wasn't going to be one of their forgettable fights. Anything he said was almost sure to come out wrong if he really lost his temper. They needed to talk about it, _tonight_ , while he was calm. They were going to have to, because Flynn could tell that if they didn't sit down and have a discussion, it was going to erupt into an argument. The longer he waited, and the more Yuri continued going back to Crash without a word, the worse it was going to be. Maybe the change in their relationship had only lasted so long because they'd been avoiding serious arguments, but they couldn't continue on like that. If they were too afraid to even talk to each other...then it wasn't a relationship worth holding on to.

Traffic was light as they drove into the city. At that hour, there were even open spaces along the usually crowded downtown streets. He pulled into a spot near the park entrance and they got out of the car. Without the music, the silence between them quickly began to feel awkward, but Yuri didn't seem to pay it any mind. He yanked the elastic band completely free from where it had been tangled in the sagging mass of his hair, and tossed it aside onto the seat as he let Repede out. The dog's tail waved like a celebratory banner and, for a moment, he held still, apparently waiting to be put on a leash which he soon realized wasn't going to happen. Even without it, he remained close to Yuri as they entered the park, though he did take the lead along the curving, branching path. Somehow, Flynn wasn't surprised to note that he was leading them toward the old amphitheater.

The chill night settled over them like a blanket of snow, just uncomfortable enough to be impossible to ignore. Walking beside him, Yuri huddled in his hoodie and shoves his hands deep into his pockets. A car horn sounded from somewhere out in the city, entering the park only as a faded echo of itself. The blue-white fluorescent lights turned the barren trees into bright silhouettes against the blacked out sky. The park was strange at night without people and sound and sunlight to fill it in. Few other people seemed interested in a late night stroll in the cold.

Memories from the day they had been asked to leave ZaFest rose in Flynn's mind. He'd felt like such an idiot, with his clumsy attempts to make conversation, but he'd had to try. He'd wanted to start over, to have a chance to be friends, at the very least. The image of Yuri as he'd stood beneath the trees, dappled with sun and shade, was fixed in Flynn's mind. Before then, he hadn't known that Yuri could smile that way, soft and rueful. It was amazing that he hadn't been caught staring, because he could remember being mesmerized by that unexpected smile. It hadn't been his first hint that there was more to Yuri, but it had been the first time he'd been searching for such things.

Some echo of that expression had worked its way into the violin piece he'd been writing. He wondered if Yuri would recognize it. He wondered if, by the time the composition was finished, he would still be able to play it for Yuri...or if he would even want to.

He shook his head to clear it of those thoughts. Being uncertain made him a worrywart. He reminded himself that, although Yuri didn't appear to take their relationship very seriously, he also hadn't shown any signs of regretting it. There was no need to assume he would toss it aside if something else came along.

They reached the amphitheater before he realized it. The lights ringing it were older than the ones illuminating the rest of the park. Covers all similarly cracked and yellowed, some bulbs were flickering sporadically. A few were completely dark, either broken or burned out. There was trash lying around—papers, empty cans and beer bottles, cigarette butts—caught in the corners of the tiers leading down to the empty pit where a temporary stage had stood only a few months ago. The sense of abandonment was almost depressing.

Repede went off sniffing around the edge while Yuri made his way straight down the grassy tiers bounded by their lichen-splotched stones. Flynn followed him down, still not sure what he was going to say. He hadn't been able to focus on it during their walk through the park. Considering it now, unless he counted that brief argument in the diner, they hadn't ever talked about what the change in their relationship meant. There was more to it than just saying 'Okay, we're dating now,' and it was about time they faced up to that fact.

He stepped off the final tier, joining Yuri in that sunken circle of dry grass, and was met with a kiss.

At first, he was too surprised to respond at all. His thoughts deserted him all at once, leaving his mind blank and his body frozen. Yuri was invitingly warm pressed up against him, although the sword pendant he always wore was digging into Flynn's chest. All it took was the barest flick of Yuri's tongue over his lips to send half-formed protests fleeing from Flynn's mind. They could talk later.

His hands settled at Yuri's hips and snuck up beneath the hem of his hoodie. Fingers tangling in Yuri's t-shirt, soaking up the heat of his body, Flynn tugged him closer. A gasp broke the rhythm of the kiss as Yuri flinched back. He was ticklish. That had been an interesting surprise back when Flynn had first discovered it. He made Yuri squirm, smiling to himself over the way he could feel that distraction in his kisses.

When he finally stopped teasing, Yuri practically melted into him. The slippery, evasive feel of his piercing glided over and around Flynn's tongue, still enticing and exciting. Flynn sucked gently at it, pulled back to let his lips catch up against it. It still fascinated him, a silver lure that drew him in time and time again. Rough and rushed and wild, Yuri's kisses broke against him and receded and swept him back up. He wondered if it was possible to become addicted to someone's kisses.

Without warning, Yuri surged forward, toppling them to the ground. Flynn landed hard on the lowermost tier and lost a few seconds to the disorientation of the sudden, dull pain and the abrupt end to the kiss. Before he could even sit straight up, however, Yuri dropped down on top of him, straddling his lap and plunging his tongue back between Flynn's slack lips. It was as if a CD had skipped. They found their rhythm again as if they'd never faltered. Flynn clutched Yuri close, fingers climbing the fabric of his hoodie to brush the back of his neck and tangle in his hair. The frost in the air felt distant, held at bay by the sudden rush of ardor. Yuri's kisses grew more desperate, falling from his lips, trailing down his chin and neck. A chill touch of air ghosted over his skin as his coat was nudged aside in the moment before Yuri bit him.

Turning his face aside, Flynn gasped. Yuri barely seemed to notice. If anything, he only became more enthusiastic. Open-mouthed kisses warmed skin exposed where he was tugging open Flynn's collar. The feel of his tongue ring had Flynn tilting his head further back, encouragingly. Yuri's teeth grazed the hollow of his throat, making him shiver. Quick little nips chased across his collarbone before being thwarted by the collar of his shirt. Yuri's momentum carried him on, however, and he slid down Flynn's body, pushing a leg aside to make room. He began unbuttoning Flynn's jeans as his head dropped between his thighs.

A shiver ran down Flynn's spine courtesy of a barely there breeze in place of hot kisses, and the hurried brush of fingers between his legs. His sense of propriety returned with a rush as he remembered exactly where they were, and he tried to get a good enough grip on Yuri to pull him up.

“Yuri! We're in _public_!”

His face was burning, and sweat trickled down his back despite the cold, tickling as it went. Shock at how far Yuri had been willing to go mingled with disbelief that he'd been about ready to let it happen, and he glanced around, looking for anyone who might have stumbled across them. The amphitheater was still deserted for the moment, but there was no guarantee that it would remain so. What if someone else had come along? What if a pair of police officers had walked through on a beat?

Mouth slack and eyes wide, Yuri gazed dazedly up at him. He looked almost as surprised as Flynn to have gotten so carried away. How could he not have noticed though? How often had he done this to rush so easily into it?

Slowly, Yuri backed off, straightening up. He knelt over Flynn still, one knee pressed up against the rise of the second tier, his other leg extended down to the amphitheater floor. As he cast his gaze over their surroundings, Flynn could almost see something that had been burning inside him die down.

“I...uh....” He met Flynn's eyes and laughed shortly before looking away again. His cheeks were bright red. Getting to his feet, he reached down, offering a hand.

Yuri's fingers were warm and damp in his, and Flynn wiped his hand reflexively on his jeans when he let go. As he remembered why they had come to the park in the first place, the loss of the heat that had been filling him left him jittery and tense. They'd put off talking for too long to back out at that point, though. It was time. He met Yuri's eyes, noting the way they crinkled at the corners because of his smile, and the words left him in a rush.

“Can we talk?”

In an instant, Yuri's smile turned to wariness. “I just got a little carried away. I won't do it again.”

He was just turning away when Flynn reached out and grabbed his hand. That wasn't how he'd intended to start, and he fumbled for words.

“No, that wasn't what I meant. That was—I mean, obviously we should be more careful in public—but that wasn't the problem.”

“You've got some other problem with me?” He yanked his hand free and clenched his fists at his sides.

“No! Yuri, I....” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Look, I've already started this all wrong. You don't have to make it difficult.”

“ _I'm_ the one making it difficult?”

Saying 'yes' to that was obviously not an option. Flynn rubbed a hand over his face. He was getting cold and frustrated and knew that this was no longer such a good time to try to open up, but there was no way out now that he'd started.

“Is this about Crash?”

He whipped his head up to meet Yuri's critical stare. “No.” Except...it kind of was. “Maybe.”

“We went back to being just friends right after I asked you out.” His voice was hard. It carried a warning with it, but there hadn't ever been an issue with what Yuri had told him.

“I know.”

“So what's the problem, then? You don't trust me?”

“I trust you.”

“ _But_...?”

He sighed. How was he going to explain this? It wasn't Yuri's integrity that he was questioning.

“Where do you see yourself in a year? In five years?”

“What's that got to—?”

“Yuri, _please_.”

Uncertainty was creeping in to overshadow his irritation. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don't know. Here, I guess. Dragon Swarm's only gotten the one out of town gig so far. Karol's probably going to go to college before we can really focus on the band full time, anyway.”

“Is that all the thought you've given to the future?”

“Not everyone wants their life laid out in a nice, neat line.”

Yuri was _not_ a long term planner. He'd known that, though. He kept his voice soft as he asked: “And what about us?”

“What _about_ us?”

“In those hopes you have for the future...” It was difficult to ask when he was fairly certain he could predict what answer he would get. He needed to know for sure, though. He needed to know if Yuri thought they had something that could last. He needed to know if he was important, or little more than a fling. “...am I there with you?”

“How the hell should I know?” Shrugging, he turned his gaze up to the blank sky. “It's up to you if you'll be there or not.”

“I'd think both of us would get a say in—” He stopped short as the meaning of Yuri's words sunk in. To say it was only up to him sounded suspiciously like his own fears that Yuri might easily toss him aside.

He waited a few seconds, watching to see if Yuri would meet his eyes. Eventually, the quiet got to be too much for his curiosity, and his attention came back down to earth, to Flynn. Even in the dingy light of old streetlamps, Yuri's eyes were still beautiful. Flynn took a step closer, heart speeding up once more as he held his gaze.

“I want to be with you when Dragon Swarm becomes famous, and after that, too.”

Looking utterly confused, Yuri was leaning away, and just a few degrees shy of having to take a step back. When he uncrossed his arms, Flynn grabbed his hands, twining their fingers together and giving him an anchor.

“You've given me almost everything I asked for that night by the campfire.”

“What do you mean, 'almost?'” He started to pull his hands free, but Flynn tightened his grip just enough to hold on.

“I mean that I want to know if you think of us as something more than the arrangement you had with Crash.” That had been the source of his anxiety. Was he someone special to Yuri? Did they have something that could last? Was he the only one thinking they might have a future together?

“That was different.”

He nodded. “I know that. What I want to know is, even though you wouldn't ask it of me, do you want me to still be with you the way we are now next year and the year after and the year after?”

Yuri's eyes narrowed. “What happens if I say no?”

Even half expecting something like that, it still hurt. He managed a crooked smile. “I don't know.” He could guess, though. Maybe he could stay for a while knowing that Yuri wouldn't mind if he left, but he wouldn't be able to dedicate himself for long to such a one-sided relationship. If they weren't on the same page, it would be best if he left.

“Fucking puppy dog eyes,” Yuri muttered. He cast his gaze down to their clasped hands. “I didn't actually say no, all right? I want you to stick around. ...Thought that was obvious.”

His cheeks were faintly pink again, and Flynn felt a smile stretch across his face. Leaning forward, he bumped their foreheads together. The tip of his nose brushed against Yuri's and, in the next moment, he'd brought their lips together. The kiss was quick and soft, a world away from the ones they'd shared just minutes ago. It must have surprised Yuri, because he barely reacted before Flynn pulled away to smile into those wide, gray eyes.

The surprise didn't last long. “Is that what all the fuss was about? What the hell, Flynn? You had me thinking something was wrong.”

“My mistake.” Smiling, he squeezed Yuri's hands. He wanted to kiss him again, but was afraid he might not be able to stop so easily a second time. “Are you ready to go home?”

For just a moment, Yuri stared at him before shaking his head. “You're a real weirdo.”

Yuri whistled sharply and Repede fell in with them as they started up the tiers back to the path that would lead them out of the park. As they walked, Flynn's right hand remained clasped around Yuri's left. They had just passed the perimeter of lights that ringed the amphitheater when Yuri spoke up.

“You thought I wanted to break up or something?”

“Sort of. You have to admit, it was a little sudden when you agreed to go out with me.”

“Way I remember it, _I_ asked _you_ out.”

He glanced over to see a faint, smug smirk tugging at Yuri's lips.

“I asked you out first.”

“Yeah, but I turned you down that time, so it doesn't count. We didn't start dating till I asked you.”

“That isn't how it works! You can't just ignore the fact that I was interested first.”

“But you can ignore the fact that you're the only one who said yes?”

Flynn stopped in his tracks, pulling Yuri up short. He certainly couldn't ignore it after that.

“Yuri, will you go out with me?”

“Sure...” A grin curled his lips. “...if you beat me back to the car!”

With a quick shove, he sent Flynn stumbling a step back and jerked his hand free. He went tearing off straight through the park, ignoring the gentle curve of the sidewalk, Repede at his side. Flynn shouted and raced after him, thrilled to be back on solid ground.


End file.
